


When I kissed the Teacher

by TheOwlsBride



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Adult Ciel Phantomhive, Adult character, Based on an ABBA Song, Black Butler - Freeform, F/M, Female Characters, Fluff, Fun, Humor, Kuroshitsuji - Freeform, Original Story - Freeform, References to ABBA, Romance, Short Story, Songfic, black sabath song NIB song, reference to black sabath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 15:36:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19466974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOwlsBride/pseuds/TheOwlsBride
Summary: Sebastian is playing the professor again, Ciel is in college, and a girl feels to brave like to kiss the teacher.





	When I kissed the Teacher

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, Kuroshitusuji is not mine. I'm writing this just for fun and because I can't get Abba's song out of my mind.

It was a bloody dull morning. Truth to be told, and being nothing but the most sincere creature in this world, all of his last mornings were, and he, being himself, he would never lie and nobody could disagree with that, maybe with some of his methods in which he could accept that sometimes were questionable but calling him a liar was way out of the line. But going back to his mornings as dull as they could be, there was nothing he can do to avoid them, at least not since the new job he had been encharged with began. Being a teacher better said, a professor was not really on his plans right now, not again, not never. But once the young master has an idea on his mind, it's probably something to take into real seriousness. Usually, these ideas were strong enough to make it through the little twisted boy's mind like a worm in a rotten apple. Simply disgusting. He didn't like his food to root, he wouldn't let it, so if playing the role of a respectable professor was now the task, then one hell of a professor he would be. Otherwise, what kind of servant would he be if he didn't get that simple job done. The problem was that solving this was taking longer than he initially thought. The things used to be more straightforward in the good old days. He used to find the culprits, make some menace, kill some bastards and be ready at the manor to fix all the disasters that the three servants could have caused and had dinner set at eight, the young master would be sleeping by ten, and everything would be ready for the next morning at his will. But no, not this time.  
The thing was the Earl of the Phantomhive, Ciel Phantomhive, far away from fulfilling his promise, you know, vengeance in exchange for his soul, was now already in college. Yes. The brat was all grown up now and studying, and he... well... he was starving because no soul means no food, so for the demon, everything was at point zero. Great: something as natural and plain as a child's vengeance was now becoming an impossible task to achieve. More than ten long years dedicated to fulfil every misery and lame wish from his master, to finish up being the math professor in college, investigating some silly crimes, that if anybody asks himself, he could answer that they were mere excuses from his master to be in the world a few more years, like a bonus track. He was not one to judge, but it was true that he was starting to feel tired of all this act. This tiresome play where he was the butler, the boy was the master, and at the same time, he would be playing any other role available on this freaking show.  
But going back to this particularly dull morning, today he has a class to give, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was the last college year, the fourth grade, the graduates to be were every day more excited, and today was not the exception. The young master was not there yet, he was just in the second year, so with a little bit of luck on his side, if everything went smooth and he didn't receive any alert or order, he wouldn't have to see the little pest till the afternoon.  
He made it through the classroom, with books in hand and his dancing walk, he was elegant and silence like a cat, he was smooth and imperceptibly, he was proud of that, but if he has to say which one was his best quality, without any trace of doubt he would tell his soft feet, always dancing a noiseless waltz. He was a demon after all, not the one that people expect, not the cruel and grotesque image humans can find in the bible. Not the half goat half human that adults show their children to scare them. No, he was Sebastian Michaelis, and he was just perfection. At least while the charm works, while this master and butler chared continue along and while he kept the form he is using now. Otherwise, nobody would like to know how or who he really was.  
Sebastian looked inside the room, the students were loudly talking to each other, really loudly, and oh how much he hated that. He was thankful though that they were adults, another class like the ones he had before full of hormonal pre-adolescent and would have broken the contract himself. They were all the same, looking at him in utter fascination, boys and girls, loving eyes on him, admiration in some others and many many frighten looks too. Not that they know what he really was, but just for fear of not aproveing his subject. Not that it really matters to him, if it were on his behalf, he would give everyone an A in their exams, and everything would be right, but that was not the case. It was necessary to keep the appearance a few reprove students, so yes, the class would get really hard sometimes.  
He greeted the class as always, and everybody greeted back, the kids took their books from their backpack and were ready to get slaughtered by the evil professor Michaelis, everybody but a girl. A girl he fixed his eyes on. She was not a child, she was a woman, maybe a late student, some fear of failing made it impossible for her to start studying early? Or perhaps no money in the family to go to college until she would make it by herself? So many perhaps surrounding her, and no answers at all. Always seat in the first line. Not a beauty, but an interest human specimen, maybe something subtle, refined like a gentle petrichor, not easy to advert at first sight, not at least by this vulgar humans. She had something underneath, not a secret, it was something simpler. She was not interesting at all, and somehow he sensed she would make a difference, and even if maybe she didn't have anything to do with his task, someday perhaps, he would pay more attention to this hidden scent that was in front of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like it, I'll be waiting for comments, suggestions, and as English is not my mother language, please feel free to correct me, or tell me what to edit.  
> Yours,  
> The Owl's Bride.


End file.
